


Burnt Apples

by Leonawriter



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: He doesn't know what triggers it off, but one moment Genesis is fine, and the next it's almost as though part of him is back in the midst of trying to get away as the bombs rained down on Banora.





	Burnt Apples

The first time it happens, Genesis is entirely unprepared.

One moment he's fine, and the next he isn't. He can't even put a finger on what caused it at first, because all he can focus on is the way his hands are sweating, shaking, and it's a good thing no one's taking advantage of the opportunity, because right now he doesn't feel able to react in time to properly defend himself, which is- well, it's frustrating, and it's embarrassing, and the way his stomach wants to rebel when he'd just started to get used to having good food on a regular basis again.

He's SOLDIER. SOLDIERs don't get sick, not like this. Not unless it's got something to do with the degradation that he'd thought was  _gone_.

The very idea that it isn't makes him freeze up even more, taking in a tense breath-

-and the smell of burning apples goes through his nose again, and it's all he can do not to  _retch._

_"Genesis? What's wrong?"_

_"Hey, anyone got a clue what's got the prissy SOLDIER-boy in a state?"_

_"Not a clue."_

_"Y'know, he kinda reminds me of... well, you, Cloud. From back when... you know."_

Their voices sounded as though they were coming from both far too close and far too far away at the same time, and with his mouth feeling like sandpaper, he couldn't respond even if he wanted to.

The thing was, he wasn't sure that he  _did_ want to.

He hadn't felt anything at the time - everything had been tied up in pain and anger and the need to act, the fact that he didn't have  _time_ to think, he couldn't, and if he let himself feel too strongly then Shinra would take him back.

But even now the smell of the dumbapple trees burning ( _that one he'd once climbed on, that one he'd once fallen out of, that one the one where he'd first met Angeal_ ) and the smoke rising from the town as the bombs hit the houses ( _unlike Zack he could pick out even from high up in the air which one was Angeal's and which one belonged to the families of the people he'd once flirted_ _with, the old couple who'd looked away and laughed when he'd caused mischief with Angeal_ ) and even empty, devoid of all life ( _which was his fault, his fault, and he was a monster because only monsters ever did things such as this_ ) and the fire swallowing it all.

A hand on his knee brings him crashing back down to reality. Part of him wants to bat the hand away, to send a shockwave out that would knock  _everyone_ away, because they didn't know a  _thing_ about him, how could they possibly? He doesn't want their cheap pity, and he doesn't want them to see him in such a state.

But when he looks up, Cloud is kneeling down in front of him, expression as serious as ever.

"Hey." He looked away. "Yeah, can't remember ever liking 'em much myself either."

"I can't remember  _you_ ever saying- at least  _you_ never-"

 _Goddess_ but his throat was rough. He felt like coughing, but that would only remind him further of the way he'd had a face full of smoke.

"Don't tell me you've taken in what everyone says about me being some kind of hero, now. Because even if some of it's true, it's just a load of bullshit."

Cloud sighed, and Genesis could see him turning away - long enough to take something, and put it on the table next to them. Water. Which he wasn't quite ready yet to reach out and take, not ready by far, because he didn't want to see the way his hands were still shaking.

"There is no hate," he recited, the words of  _LOVELESS_ coming easier to him than anything he could think of on his own right now, "only joy, for you are beloved of the goddess."

"In my dreams," Cloud said flatly. Genesis could hear - and see, if only through the curtain of his now-long hair - him move to sit on the chair next to him, and angle it so that they were facing each other. "The only goddess I know... that I think fits, anyway, is Aerith. And she's more likely to drag me back up onto my feet the moment I start dragging them, than anything."

He let out a shaky breath. He'd seen Tifa treat Cloud in much the same way, although from what everyone said, there'd been a time when he'd been worse, more distant. 

"You feeling any better now?"

Better than feeling like death warmed up, better than remembering his home burning? 

At least he was able to nod. Pretend, because that was easier, because-

"Wanna talk about it? You don't have to, but it helps Denzel. And Tifa."  _But not me,_ went unspoken. Cloud generally just didn't talk about what he'd been through. he dealt with things by  _doing_ , not  _saying._

Genesis, however, wasn't Cloud. 

More than that, he still remembered the last time he'd gone without saying anything, to anyone, and by the time he had - it had been  _too late._

"... _Banora_ ," he bit out. Almost unable to say anything past that, for fear that Cloud would know already, would turn away from him in disgust. "It was my home. I'd done-"  _empty house upon empty house, with only one survivor, and only four faces among the hundreds there_ "-monstrous things. But Shinra took  _everything I had left."_

He looked up, then, unable to bear the lack of response. But Cloud only had his eyes closed, his fist clenched. 

Goddess, he felt ten years old again. And  _that_ feeling made him miss Angeal, wish things were the way they'd been back then and not the way they were  _now._

_I can still smell the apples burning._

Cloud's chair was pushed back, the sound loud and grating in the tense quiet that had gathered around them in the absence of Tifa and Barret.

"C'mon, we're getting out of here." It was still odd at times to think how this man used to once be an  _infantryman_ , with no expectation of going up to the rank of SOLDIER. And now here they were, a former First being dragged up by the arm by someone who'd only ever claimed the title under false pretences. "Let's get you some fresh air."

**Author's Note:**

> Two things that aren't shown due to limitations because of the POV: one, he wasn't just thinking that last line about the smell, and two, none of the others were bothered by it, because for them it was just 'oh, whoops', but... someone had burnt an apple (or more), and the smell of something actually burning is different from when it's cooking. 
> 
> As I've seen it said, your brain starts letting you know you've been through something traumatic generally only once the danger has passed. Once you feel safe enough to break from it a little.
> 
> Cloud is much more adept at helping other people with their issues than he is at dealing with his own.


End file.
